


Night Out - Night In

by Udunie



Category: Original Work
Genre: BDSM, Caning, Daddy Kink, M/M, Pain, Possessive Behavior, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 10:22:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5582041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Udunie/pseuds/Udunie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben was a bit pissed, if he wanted to be honest. He knew it was stupid, it wasn’t like Brad could help having whiny clients, but well…</p><p>They were supposed to have a night out together, and truth be told, this wasn’t the first time he got stood up. As much as he loved the guy - and the things they did in the bedroom - enough was enough.</p><p>So Ben decided that he would have fun. Without Brad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Out - Night In

**Author's Note:**

> I... actually forgot to post this, even though I wrote it a bit ago... Anyway, I hope you guys are going to like it, cause I had a lot of fun with it! :D
> 
> This fic is dedicated to the lovely Rachel who gave me this prompt, but unfortunately has no AO3 account... Thank you so much, hon!
> 
> Thank you - as always - to the wonderful Emma for the betaing!

**** Ben was a bit pissed, if he wanted to be honest. He knew it was stupid, it wasn’t like Brad could help having whiny clients, but well…

They were supposed to have a night out together, and truth be told, this wasn’t the first time he got stood up. As much as he loved the guy - and the things they did in the bedroom - enough was enough.

So Ben decided that he would have fun. Without Brad.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he just went out with his friends from college. Brad was pretty demanding of his time, and that was all okay when he felt like he had just as much right to the man’s time. Currently he wasn’t feeling like that.

He did leave a note on the fridge, but he had no doubt that Brad would only get home in the morning, grouchy and tired from his video conference. Ben would be home by then. Probably.

He didn’t give a fuck, okay?

The club was nice, dark enough to hide in the shadows but the lights zig-zagging across the crowd bright enough to get them in the right mindspace. It was a bit pricey, but he haven’t really had a chance to spend some of the pocket money he got from Brad in a long while anyway.

His friends were having fun, and their cheer was infectious. Soon enough Ben was in the middle of the dance floor too, shaking what he was given in the ring of some very good looking man. They weren’t as handsome as a certain someone, but if he squinted, he could almost imagine. Not like they went to places like this with Brad. Ben didn’t even ask; there was no way his big-dog businessman sugar-daddy/boyfriend would be willing to set foot into a place like this.

So he danced. There was sweat cooling on his skin as he swayed his hips to the rhythm of the misc, enjoying the attention. He couldn’t completely turn his brain off though. He had been feeling… kind of pushed to the background by Brad’s work. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Yeah, so he should have told Brad when he went out according to the ‘rules’ but the rules also said that he was Brad’s boy and he hadn’t really been that in a long time.

He didn’t notice when people backed away from him, too caught up in having fun, so he didn’t even twitch when someone appeared behind him. All he could feel was the firmness of the body, and that was enough for now.

He did get suspicious when there were strong hands clamping down on his hips, stopping him mid-motion.

“And what exactly do you think you’re doing?” Came a deep voice behind him, the man’s short, but dense beard rasping along his jaw.

Fuck.

Oh, shit.

“Brad,” he said, voice a bit shaky, but he didn’t doubt that he had been heard if the clenching of those hands was anything to go by.

“Mhm. But for all you care, I could have been anyone, isn’t that right?”

He wanted to deny it, but… That would have been a mistake. And seriously, it wasn’t like he would have done anything, just a bit of innocent flirting. Brad had to know that…

He didn’t have time to explain.

“We are going,” his lover said, pulling him towards the exit, hand almost painful around his wrist.

Shit.

 

***

 

The ride home had been silent. Brad’s apartment was in the better part of the city, and the ride towards it always made Ben think that he didn’t really belong there.

Brad didn’t agree, he always told him that he belonged wherever Brad was. But the man didn’t talk now, just drove. The Lamborghini purring beneath them like a satisfied cat.

 

***

 

As soon as they were inside, Brad took his suit jacket off and threw it over the back of the couch. That didn’t mean anything good, he was always prissy about his clothes.

“Get naked,” he said, voice not leaving any space for argument.

“Look, I know you’re angry-” he couldn’t finish, because Brad was in front of him, pushing him against the wall, crowding close. His eyes were hard, but not… not the murderous he feared.

“Benjamin, if I were really angry, I wouldn’t be touching. I’m disappointed, I’m annoyed and tired, and I think for once in your life it’s in your best interest to stop arguing and just obey the orders.”

Ben swallowed. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like that Brad was disappointed, even though he knew that he kind of deserved it. He swallowed and nodded his head. His lover stepped back, giving him a long look.

“Your behaviour has been unacceptable. You were a very, very bad boy, and I will not stand for it. Understood?”

Ben nodded again, not sure that he was able to do much else.

“I didn’t hear that, boy.”

“Y-yes, Daddy,” he said, feeling his cock stir despite the situation.

“Good. Get on with it. On the couch, facing the back.”

Ben got undressed, fingers shaking a bit as he undid his zipper. He was wearing Brad’s favorite undies - the white one with the black lace - he didn’t know if that was going to escalate or ease things.

“Leave the underwear,” the man said from behind him.

Well. One or the other for sure.

“Benjamin, don’t stall. This is not the time for games,” Brad told him, so he kicked his sock off quickly. He didn’t mean to do it, but he was nervous, okay?

He knelt on the lush, leather couch and leaned his front against the back, waiting.

The waiting was the part he hated the most. Or loved the least. It was hard to tell.

“Now, do you know why you are being punished, Benjamin?”

A shiver ran down his spine. Nobody ever called him Benjamin, it was all Brad’s, and the way he said that name never ceased to make him feel like a naughty schoolboy being called in front of the class.

“Yes, Daddy. I… I didn’t tell you that I was going out.”

Brad hummed.

“And? What else?”

Huh? He was pretty sure that was it. Did he… did he do something else?

“Um… For letting other’s touch me?”

“Good, and?”

And what?

“I… I don’t know.”

His whole body jerked as Brad slapped his ass hard. Even with his underwear still on, it stung, making his skin burn.

“Ah… uh… I-I don’t know!”

He could hear Brad walking back and forth behind him, the sound of the coffee table being pushed back so he would have more room.

“Let me jog your memory then. What night is it?”

Ben managed to catch his breath after the surprise, but that… that just made him feel mutinous. He turned his head, looking at Brad head-on, which wasn’t something he should have done, but he didn’t care.

“Oh? It’s date night, isn’t it?” he spat, almost getting up, but instinct stopping him in the last second. “And you weren’t here!”

Brad didn’t look too taken aback. Which was kind of a pity, really. For once, Ben kind of wanted to spank  _ him _ .

“Head forward,” was all the reply he got. For a second he seriously considered just getting the hell out or saying his safe-word or something, but he just couldn’t. He knew Brad would finally leave him alone, but he wanted to see how this was going to play out.

He turned his head, staring resolutely at the butt-ugly painting on the wall. Brad liked art, but in Ben’s honest opinion he had no fucking clue about it.

“I was home by ten,” the man said finally, fingers brushing lightly over the curve of Ben’s spine.

Wait, what? They missed each-other by ten minutes, then. That couldn’t be right. Brad called him at half past nine that he wouldn’t come.

“What?” he didn’t like how small his voice sounded, but he couldn’t help it.

“I’m sorry for brushing you off. I felt bad about it so I had the partners reschedule,” he admitted, and the sincerity in his tone was enough to make Ben feel like an ass. Or at least as much of an ass as Brad had been.

“Oh.”

“That doesn’t mean that we are going to just forget about the things you did, though,” Brad told him, hand disappearing from his back.

Ben nodded. Okay. Okay that was kind of fair.

Brad rubbed his palms over his ass, massaging the globes. He couldn’t help moaning at the sensation, even though he knew it meant that things would get pretty rough.

 

***

 

He was told to lose the underwear and get back in position. Brad vanished into the bedroom. No doubt to get something to beat him with.

He was already in his place by the time he returned so he didn’t see what he ended up choosing.

“Alright. Pull your asscheeks apart,” the man dictated, making Ben’s belly squirm. Fuck.

He reached pack and pulled, revealing his crack. His hole was already twitching.

“Very good, boy. Keep it there. I’m going to give you ten hits. You are going to count them out and thank me for every single one of them. You are going to tell me how sorry you are about breaking the rules. Is that understood?”

Ben’s mouth was dry. Shit. He just couldn’t with that tone. It always managed to get him going.

“Yes, Daddy,” he replied. It should have been funny how high his voice went when they did a scene, but nobody was laughing right now.

“Good. If you mess up, we are starting over,” Brad told him, and as soon as the last syllable was off his lips the first strike landed, making Ben’s toes clench and his back bow.

Fuck. Fuck-fuck-fuck.

It was the thin, flexible cane. They haven’t used that much. Not yet at least. It hit him right over his hole, setting the sensitive nerve endings on fire.

“Ah… shi… I mean. One, thank you, Daddy. I-I’m sorry for breaking the rules.”

Brad hummed, just tapping his ass with the cane lightly as he listened.

“I sure hope you are, boy.”

The second hit wasn’t any easier. In fact, Ben was pretty sure he would go mad if Brad kept aiming right over his hole every time.

“Uh… uh…” It was hard to remember how words worked. Just a bit. “T-two. Thank you, Daddy. I’m sorry for breaking the rules.”

He could barely finish the words before the third landed. Holy shit, that hurt, that hurt a lot. His poor little hole kept twitching under the abuse and he had a hard time keeping his fingers where they were supposed to be. His whole body screamed at him to cover himself, instead exposing.

It took him a bit longer to untie his tongue.

“That… uh… Three. Three, thank you, Daddy,” he said, taking a few, deep breaths. “I’m s-sorry for breaking the rules.”

“Good boy,” Brad told him. He still sounded serious, but that familiar, deep voice made something in him relax.

The next hit made him cry out. It was harder than the ones before, making him press against the couch. Fuck. Fuck he was hard. He didn’t know what Brad would say if he comes on the furniture.

His skin was tingling all over, the bite of pain sharp and warm, buzzing in his veins. Fuck. His head was kind of floaty.

“Number, Benjamin,” Brad reminded him. Shit. Did he space out?

“Ah… it’s… uh. Three? Three, th-”

“No, no, no.” Brad tutted with a chuckle. “That was the fourth, boy. You missed.”

What?

“N-no. No, Daddy, please… I’m. I’m sorry for breaking the rules, please. Please don’t make me start again,” he begged, not caring about how pathetic he sounded. He was going to die.

The man rubbed his ass, smoothing his hand up his spine in long, soothing strokes.

“I’m sorry, my boy. But I’ve told you the rules. We are starting again, until we get to ten. Be grateful that you didn’t say a bigger number on accident because then we would be adding two to the final count for you trying to cheat.”

Ben bit his lip in defeat.

 

***

 

He fucked up the next round at three - which, pathetic - and the one after that at fucking seven.

By the time they finally got to nine he was a sobbing, desperate mess.

His hole hurt so much. His whole ass did, even though Brad always - always - hit his crack. But the pain was too much, radiating out from that narrow stretch of skin and enveloping him. It was hard to think, and counting almost impossible but he managed.

His fingers kept slipping on his skin - too much sweat not enough strength - but Brad waited him out, tapping his wrist with the tip of the cane when he wasn’t quick enough to correct his pose.

The next hit was soft, barely there, but it still managed to wrench a sob out of him. He was so oversensitive that he was pretty sure that a gentle breeze on his hole would set him off screaming.

Fuck.

Fuck, what was the number? His breathing sped up in panic. He couldn’t remember. Was the last one nine or eight? Everything was blurry, his brain most of all. He didn’t… He didn’t know…

“Come on, my boy. I need a number,” Brad told him, voice close to gentle.

Ben cried, fingers jerking as he kept his asscheeks parted.

Fuck. If he said ten and it was only nine then he would have to start again, and go until  _ twelve _ . But… But if he said nine when it was ten then he would have to start over when he could have  _ finished _ …

He didn’t know. He really didn’t.

He was going to go mad. He just… He just wanted Daddy to finally forgive him.

“D-daddy… I don’t… I don’t know the… ah… number,” he sobbed. His nose was running and his face was a mess of drool and tears.

“Hush, it’s okay. All you need to do is think, come on, baby boy,” Brad told him, calm and collected and kind of soft.

Ben tried. He really did.

“N-nine?”

When Brad sighed, he already knew he lost. He couldn’t stop himself from letting go and just folding his hands over his head to try and hide. He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take another round.

Brad didn’t order him to get back into position. He walked around the couch and pulled his arms away gently, holding a bottle of water to his lips.

“Come on, boy. Drink up.” 

Ben did, grateful. He was so parched, he didn’t understand how he didn’t notice it before.

“Daddy, Daddy please, don’t make me do it again. Daddy, I can’t…” he whispered, looking at Brad with glazed, teary eyes. The man leaned down and kissed his forehead.

“I’m sorry, baby boy, but you will have to. Will you try for me?”

Ben squeezed his eyes together, trying to swallow his desperation down.

“Y-yeah.”

 

***

 

Ben didn’t catch on at first, too caught up in the devastation of having to do it again.

They were already by six when he finally noticed.

After every hit, Brad waited until he caught his breath, tapping out a short rhythm on the small of his back with just the very tip of the cane. Ben could barely feel it compared to his ass, but it was still there.

_ tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap _ pause  _ tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap _

Fuck. Under any other circumstances, he would have laughed his ass off that Brad might actually be cheating with punishment on Ben’s behalf, but, well…

He really was on the edge of breaking down completely.

Maybe Brad didn’t even realize what he was doing. Maybe it was just a coincidence.

Ben swallowed and said his peace, waiting for the next hit with bated breath.

He almost forgot what he was waiting for when the pain washed over him with the strike of the cane, but he remembered just in time. He was pretty sure he didn’t even breath as he counted the taps. Seven.

He actually started crying harder as he said the words his Daddy wanted to hear. But this time it was only part pain and desperation, the other part was the realization of just how much he fucking loved Brad.

 

***

 

Even with his Daddy helping, he almost fucked up the last hit. It was incredibly hard to concentrate long enough to count how many times Brad tapped his back. He actually had to repeat it four times for Ben to manage.

For a second, he couldn’t believe it. Suddenly he was sure that Brad played a trick, that he was giving him a wrong signal on purpose. Maybe he was actually angry.

If he had to do it again, he would safeword. He would have to. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Come on, baby boy. Tell me the number,” Brad said gently. It made him feel stupid for doubting his Daddy. It had to be right. It just had to be.

“T-ten? Ten, Daddy, ten? Please, I’m so sorry. Daddy…”

Brad didn’t let him babble for long. In a second he was right there, the cane clattering to the floor.

“That’s right, boy. That’s perfectly right, you did it. You did so well, my lovely boy,” he whispered, gentle, large hands turning him around and picking him up.

Ben clung on like a monkey. A very tired, cried out monkey.

He hid his face in Brad’s shirt, pulling in big lungfuls of his warm, familiar scent until his breathing finally evened out.

Brad took him to the bedroom, laying him down carefully. He kissed Ben’s cheek, the tip of his nose, his neck… everywhere he could reach.

“I’m very proud of you, baby boy. But you have to promise not to do this again.”

Ben nodded, eyes already closed and half-asleep. His cock was at half-mast, but he didn’t care. He didn’t even have enough energy left to come.

“Promise, Daddy,” he murmured, curling tighter into Brad’ warm, solid body.

“Me too,” the man said quietly, but Ben was already too far to hear it.

 


End file.
